


Year After Year

by alecmagnuslwb



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, i mean of course there's angst it's johnzee, with guest appearances by some of jl dark's finest as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25551103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alecmagnuslwb/pseuds/alecmagnuslwb
Summary: John Constantine isn’t always known for his reliability but every year without question he never misses Zatanna’s birthday. A 5 +1 thing of sorts in which John always shows up and one year he stays.
Relationships: John Constantine/Zatanna Zatara
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	Year After Year

**Author's Note:**

> JohnZee are literally my all-time favorite comic book couple so I decided why the hell not jump in on them and write some fic. Enjoy!

**1 Twenty**

Zatanna stretches out along the couch her feet propped up on the coffee table a large magical tome in her lap. It’s nearing midnight and soon enough her birthday will be over and done with.

The morning had been so busy filled with her attempting to convince Nick that going out to search for a missing page from an ancient book that’s likely sitting in a dragon’s den was too dangerous. It wasn’t until Nick had stormed out ignoring her pleas, John kissing her on the head and following him out to ensure he didn’t get himself killed that she had even realized the date.

She’s never been big on birthdays; they’d been her thing with her mother and after her death she just stopped putting any sort of effort into them. This year was no different, she’s fairly certain she’s never told John when her birthday is and even if in his frequently spiraling state Nick does recall the date he’s likely not to acknowledge it at all.

Which works just fine for her. 

The door busts open Zatanna jumping up from the couch in defense mode immediately only to stand down upon seeing its only Nick. A single aged page in his hand, his jacket a little burnt around the edges.

“Got it,” he says roughly already heading for the stairs, likely to shut himself into his room conjuring and doing who the hell knows what else until the wee hours of the morning. “Wasn’t dangerous, just like I said.”

“The fact you’ve been gone nearly 12 hours and look a little crispy says otherwise,” Zatanna shouts after him, Nick already halfway upstairs. “Where’s John?”

Nick waves a dismissive hand at the door he left wide open. “Stopped to run an errand.”

And then he’s disappearing around the corner his bedroom door slamming shut behind him. Zatanna flops down on the couch head in one hand and picking at her fishnets with the other. Her worry about John subsides while her worry about Nick increases. What a strange feeling it is to be falling in love while watching your closest friend and ex fall deeper into an obsessive magical hole that you can’t seem to stop him from falling into.

It’s another reason her birthday slipped her mind this year, she’s too busy losing Nick and holding onto John to focus on much else.

Zatanna runs a hand through her hair standing just as she hears footsteps nearing the brownstones door. John steps in a bouquet of flowers in his hands that he immediately attempts to hide behind his back when he spots her standing there.

“Hey, luv I wasn’t sure you’d still be up,” he says smile bright and feign confident, a classic John Constantine grin. She can’t help but smile back.

“You were gone nearly 12 hours after leaving to fight a dragon, of course I’m still up,” she says stepping closer and reaching up to run her fingers along the stubble on his jaw. “Are you hurt?”

“Nah,” he says shaking his head, a bit of ash falling from his hair. He reaches down tugging at his shirt. “Just a bit singed around the edges. Finding it took longer than fighting it.”

He sounds a little sad, the same sadness she carries about Nick’s behavior. They’ve talked about it before, what to do is still a question that hangs in the air and tonight it’s late, they’re both so tired and John is hiding a bouquet of flowers behind his back that she’s too curious about to broach the topic once again.

Zatanna places both hands on his chest, smoothing out his ruined shirt.

“So, what is that you’re hiding behind your back?” she asks tilting her head in a way she knows he finds adorable.

“Ah, that is a gift,” he says stepping back just enough so that her hands fall and the bouquet is held out between them. A gorgeous arrangement of lilacs and lavender, her favorites, just a little crushed at the top from where he’d briskly tucked them behind his back. “For you. Happy birthday luv,” he says urging her to take the flowers.

She does, smelling them and then cradling them in her arms.

“How did you know?”

John just shrugs a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.

“I have my ways.”

Zatanna steps closer, bridging the small gap of space between them.

“Your ways, huh,” she says eyeing John suspiciously. “Your ways being you noticed my ID when I accidentally left it on your dresser the other night.”

John just chuckles reaching his hands out to pull her in by the hips, crushing the flowers between them.

“Maybe,” he says grin getting cheekier by the minute. “You look great in your photo by the way, clearly witchcraft considering you're gorgeous, but nobody looks that good on an ID.”

Zatanna snorts before whispering a quiet thank you.

“You don’t have to thank me, I just wanted you to have something, even if there is only about ten minutes left of the day and it’s not much. At the very least I’ll be making sure you get that much every year as long as you keep putting up with me. Promise,” he says rubbing circles into her hips with his thumbs. “Next year I’ll even bake you cake.”

**2 Twenty-Three**

“Thank you,” she says one last time bowing to the audience before her. She picks up a single rose at her feet smiling before heading back stage.

She passes by her crew a few high fives and congratulations on another successful show given as she goes. She hands the single rose to her favorite stagehand Mikey with a smile.

It’s another birthday in the books, this one spent doing what she loves on the stage and hopefully ending in a warm bath with a large glass of wine.

“Ekat em emoh,” she whispers to herself once she’s closed the door to her dressing room and a swirling portal appears before her. She steps through already flinging her coat and top hat off as she enters the Zatara mansion.

She kicks off her clunky heels as she heads up the stairs passing by so many of her father’s left behind artifacts. She closes her eyes moving her neck back and forth to release some tension, unlacing her corset as she steps into her bedroom.

“It’s your birthday and yet here I am the one getting a present,” a familiar sly voice startles her from the darkness.

“Jesus,” she says clutching a hand to her chest there’s only one person with the access to get past her wards, but he surprises her all the same. She turns to see John leaned back in the chair by her vanity legs spread comfortably. A bouquet of lilacs and lavender rest in his lap, his grip on them loose.

“Well now I’m pretty sure that’d be taken as blasphemous if anyone upstairs heard you call me that,” John says that damn little smirk of his just visible in the moonlight.

“Sthgil,” she says waving a hand around the room. A swell of warm low-lit bulbs coming to life so she can see him more clearly. She goes back to unlacing her corset, it’s not like he hasn’t seen it all before. “You’re here.”

“Of course I’m here,” he says standing and getting a little closer as she slips on a Black Canary band t-shirt. “I haven’t missed your birthday yet, have I?”

He hasn’t, not since that first one. They’ve broken up since then, followed by a mini reunion on her birthday last year mere weeks after he father’s death. John had shown up with a bouquet of flowers and a red velvet cake that tasted like beets and just held her all day. Blame and guilt flew out the window for that day, even if the cake tasted like shit.

They’ve been doing a lot of back and forth ever since then, but a few days ago Zatanna had heard whispers of John getting himself into some new spectacular shit and when he hadn’t called for help she assumed he’d be a no show today.

And yet here is, keeping his promise.

“Good point,” she says turning to face him. “Please tell me you didn’t bake a cake this year?”

John laughs, one of those big genuine laughs he so rarely does. All she can do is join along with him, the sound contagious.

“No, no cake,” he says handing her the flowers. “But just you wait I’ll be perfecting that one day, just need some more practice.”

She doesn’t think there’s a spell in this world that could make John Constantine a decent baker, but she appreciates the effort nonetheless. She sits the flowers down on the edge of her bed and folds her arms around his middle, he immediately holds her right back.

“How does a steaming hot bath and some wine sound to you?” she says voice slightly muffled from where she’s buried her face into his chest.

“Anything you want Zee,” he says rubbing his hands slowly up and down her back. “It’s your birthday.”

**3 Twenty-Five**

“Edolpxe!” she shouts pushing her hands out at the swarm of demons before them. She regrets the choice immediately as a rain of demon guts and ichor spew back at her and her companions.

She shakes her hand out not that it does much good then attempts to wipe any goo from around her eyes and swallows once. And ugh, yup there’s some in her mouth. She spits out what she can in digust.

“Happy fucking birthday to me,” she grumbles under her breath.

“You okay Zatanna?” Andrew Bennet asks as he comes to stand beside her, covered head to toe in the same gunk she is. Boston, the lucky incorporeal bastard, floats up beside him a vision of cleanliness.

She nods, “Yeah, just in desperate need of seven or so showers and a giant bottle of mouthwash.”

Andrew huffs in agreement. Boston opens his mouth clearly about to say something that will no doubt drive Zatanna crazy about his clean state, but is cut off by a voice off to the side.

“So, I guess I’m late then?” John says, the purple bouquet of flowers she’s come to expect every year in one hand. “Or maybe judging from the look of you two, just in time.”

Zatanna rolls her eyes. They’ve been going strong for the last few months, had a dinner plan for her birthday tonight and everything. Just this once deciding to do a little more for the day outside of the walls of wherever she calls home, but of course he’d been running late for dinner and not answered his phone when a hoard of demons turned up in the alleyway behind the restaurant.

Luckily Boston and Andrew had answered her call.

“Naelc pu siht ssem,” she says the mess in front of and on them disappearing in a moment. Her mouth still feels gross, but she’s okay with that, kissing John with demon ichor mouth for not showing up on time seems like a good form of payback.

Andrew and Boston bid their goodbyes as she conjures up a portal for them then she walks over to where John stands leaning against the wall lighting a cigarette. He takes a long drag blowing the smoke out to the side before she gets within touching distance of him. She leans up immediately kissing him deeply.

“No offense luv, but you taste a bit like a demon’s asshole,” John says once she’s pulled back taking her birthday flowers from his arms. Well, she thinks, that’s what you get for being late.

She smiles sarcastically up at him. “And you taste like an ashtray,” she says plucking his cigarette from between his fingers and tossing it into a puddle by their feet stamping it out with the front of her tall steel toed heels for safe measure.

“You love it,” he says offendedly looking down at his lost cigarette.

“I love you,” she says pointedly, tangling their fingers together and tugging him along. “I tolerate that.” She flings her head back slightly to the puddle drenched cigarette. “Now come on let’s get dinner I need to get this taste out of my mouth.”

John chuckles as she pulls him along faster, “The ashtray flavor or the demon asshole taste?”

“Both.”

**4 Twenty-Seven**

“Got any big birthday plans?” Zachary asks as he packs up the last of his gear in a suitcase spelled to have no end.

Zatanna scoffs, “No, you know birthdays aren’t really my thing.”

“Except when Constantine’s here,” Zachary says, a hint of judgement in his voice. He’s not exactly John’s biggest fan, then again most people aren’t.

She ignores the remark patting Zachary on the shoulder as she passes by to grab something from the drink cart. Vegas is always a good time for shows, especially when she gets to see her cousin, but right about now she’s ready to grab a drink and then head home to San Francisco.

Just as she starts to pour whiskey into her glass a fiery portal comes to life next to the drink cart and Zachary jumps into defense mode, hands at the ready. Zatanna however just keeps pouring her drink. She recognizes that magic, feels the pull of it in the air and the scent of a specific brand of cigarettes lingering at the edges; this is no threat.

“Bollocks,” John says as he falls through the portal flat on his back, scrambling quickly to shut it. A decaying green and grey hand reaches out as he does, the portal severing it off as it closes. He falls back again spreading his legs so the hand doesn’t fall on him as it twitches one last time. He falls back to the floor in relief eyes shutting for a second before gazing up at Zatanna.

She takes a sip of her drink regarding him.

“John,” she says swirling the ice around in her glass.

He smiles up at her reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulling out a severely crushed bouquet of lilacs and lavender.

“Zee, these are for you,” he says reaching them up to her. She takes them, their fingers brushing, lingering for a few moments more than necessary.

They haven’t seen each other much over the past year since their last split not long after her twenty-sixth birthday. She stopped calling what they did breaking up, was it really a broken thing if eventually it always came back around whole? It’s to date the longest they’ve gone without being a couple officially or at least sleeping together at some point or another. Overall it’s been an odd year for them to say the least. 

They’d saved the world from an apocalypse, but it had cost them a member of their so-called Justice League Dark. A loss that Constantine had taken full blame for, so much so that he went to hell to make it right without telling Zatanna he was even leaving.

She’d almost mourned him, but somewhere in her soul she just knew he wasn’t dead, could feel that he was still alive. Life still had to go on though and back to San Francisco she’d gone. She dated Hal, a nice enough entertainment agent for a bit, but then one day when he witnessed John literally crawling up out of the floor of her kitchen bloodied and more defeated than he had been when he’d left their relationship had effectively ended.

She healed John that night tending to his wounds and holding his hands as the burn of the hellfire still running through his veins subsided. She was still mad as hell at him for the leaving the way he had, but this was who they were, this was how they worked. They were always there for each other when they needed no matter their status.

He’d left after that, this time telling her where he was going. She dated Monica for a bit and then John turned up with a real bonafide boyfriend named Oliver, not the one you’re thinking. For a moment in time they’d both been happy with other people and for the first time since the day they met Zatanna thought maybe they’d actually well and truly reached their end. The cycle finally come to a close.

But then Monica had accused her of always relying on John and never on her when she was in trouble and even when she wasn’t; then shortly after Zatanna paid a visit to John for help his relationship with Oliver ended abruptly. They both acted like the breakups timing were simply coincidences.

John made a vague reasoning about fucking things up as he always did and Zatanna spouting something about wanting different things, but they both knew the truth. Whether the main reason or not, the fact they were still in love with each other despite all the anger and history was far too clear for their partners to deal with any longer.

Things had been almost awkward between them after that. For months it’d been like they were avoiding talking about anything at risk of admitting they still cared.

If there was ever a birthday she expected him to skip, it was this one.

“I know you aren’t the type to cheat, but the way you two are looking at each other I feel like I should remind you that you have a boyfriend,” Zachary says not so quietly, breaking their staring contest.

Right, she does have a boyfriend. Detective Dale Colton is sweet and caring and doesn’t have a clue it’s her birthday because she never felt the need to tell him. She’s never felt the need to tell him a lot of things. Which should probably be very telling for her and for their relationship, not that she has time right now to unpack all of that.

“No worries there Zachy,” John says shortening the name just to annoy Zachary as he hefts himself up from the ground. “I’m not here for that, just keeping a yearly promise.”

Zachary glares at Constantine before returning his attention to Zatanna. He opens his mouth no doubt about to invite himself to stay and have a few drinks, but she cuts him off.

“Don’t you have a date?”

Zachary holds her eyes for a moment before sighing grabbing his bag and tossing a wave and a birthday salutation over his shoulder before heading for the door.

“Drink?” Zatanna asks John already pouring a second glass, anticipating his answer. “You know,” she says looking at the flowers she’s sat on the drink cart. “These are by far your saddest looking bouquet yet.”

John laughs a small sad thing as he takes the offered drink from her hand fingertips brushing once again.

“Well that’s the kind of year it’s been hasn’t it,” he says tossing back the whole drink.

She frowns reaching out to tug on his sleeve to get his attention.

“Maybe it’s due time we change that,” she says turning away and grabbing the whole bottle of whiskey and heading for the balcony. It’s her birthday dammit and all she wants is to be on real speaking terms with the man she often begrudgingly admits is probably her favorite person in the world.

They settle out under the warm Vegas night talking, really talking for the first time since he left for hell. As the night wanes on their laughter becomes a little less sad and everything around them starts to feel a little like forgiveness, like getting back on track. Damn near almost like friendship.

Not that they’d ever be friends. As Papa Midnite had once put it so bluntly after they’d said as such while bargaining with him, “You’ll never be friends. You’ll be in love till it kills you both. You’ll fight and you’ll fuck and you’ll hate each other till you quiver, but you’ll never be friends.”

They’d ignored him that night, but both were well aware they were kidding themselves if they tried to act like he was wrong.

“Happy birthday by the way,” John says after a while, mere seconds left till midnight. “I’m still working on mastering that cake.”

**5 Twenty-Eight**

Dinah waves and Ollie salutes as she heads for her room at the Justice League headquarters as fast as she can. She knows that Batman has detailed files about every member right down to what they sleep in every night most likely so of course birthdates were included. While she didn’t expect Bruce to be sentimental enough to try and throw a party or something, Dinah and Ollie had both seen a glimpse of her file and expressed an interest in celebrating the day.

She was fairly certain she’d talked them out of it, but she still wanted to get out of there before they changed their minds just to be safe.

She turns the corner to her room now, almost in the clear closing the door tightly behind her and leaning on it.

“You lot better be saving the world, if the League’s keeping you out this late.”

Zatanna flips on the lights revealing John lying in the center of the bed on his side like a fully dressed Playgirl model. The expected bouquet of flowers on the pillow near his bent arm.

“Supervillains don’t really stick to a 9 to 5,” Zatanna says pushing off the door.

“That,” John says shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, “is why I like my demons, evil wizards and hell beasts they’re a late-night crowd. Interrupt your sleep, but never your dinner.”

Zatanna laughs sitting down beside him and picking up the flowers from the pillow.

“So that’s why you turned me down then? Dinner plans and time management?” she asks looking up from the fresh flowers and into John’s eyes. She’s been on the official roster of the Justice League for six months; she’d ask John to come with her and he’d refused. Convinced that his style would never be okay in the eyes of the capes and tights crowd.

They’re still dating despite his turn down, sort of. It’s complicated. Not the most complicated they’ve ever been by far, but still complicated.

He doesn’t say anything just smiles at her softly.

“So, I know you can get past my wards because I have you keyed into them, but how the hell did you get in here?” she says changing the subject.

John’s smile transforms into a classic Constantine smirk, winking as he pulls a card from his pocket handing it to her. Batman’s Justice League backup ID card.

Zatanna cackles, full out cackles.

“He’s going to kill you if he ever finds out you have this,” she says through gasping laughter.

John reaches out brushing the long dark hair that’s fallen into her face away, “Worth it.”

**+1 Thirty**

Zatanna pulls her hair up into a high ponytail stretching her neck out. After another great show and a successful mugging prevention she’s ready for a quiet rest of the night in her San Francisco apartment.

She’d moved late last year, tired of living in the Zatara estate all alone. Opting to keep it up and running for when she needs anything and as safe haven shelter to fellow magics in trouble whenever they might need it.

She’s comfortable in black leggings and a Nightwing crop top that Dick had sent her as a joke that she now wears costantly to spite him. She sits down in front of her vanity about to take her makeup off when someone knocks on the door.

She heads over pulling it open and there he is just like every year except early for once.

“John,” she says but he stops her lifting his hand to quiet her, index finger hovering over her lips.

“Wait just, three,” he looks down at the dented watch on his wrist. “two, one.”

“Happy birthday, luv,” he says looking back up just as it hits midnight the usual bouquet of flowers appearing magically in his hand.

She smiles, loving the consistency of this little ritual of theirs.

“Tup meht ni a esav,” she says waving her hand at the offered flowers. A clear, glass vase appears on the table beside her door the flowers floating up from John's hand and delicately placing themselves inside.

She reaches out pulls him in by his tie, leans up and kisses him hard. He responds immediately hands instinctively reaching under her thighs and lifting her up tight to his body. She wraps her legs around him kicking the door shut before he starts moving, carrying her into the bedroom with ease.

He lies her on the bed removing his trench coat first and then running his hands along every inch of her as he kisses her just right and just so slow. He pulls back something akin to worship written across his face and a look in his eyes that seems like he’s just made up his mind about something important. She doesn’t have time to think about it though because soon enough he’s moving down her body and she’s not thinking at all.

It’s hours before they finally leave the bedroom, somewhere in the middle of the night migrating out to the living room lounging on the couch. Zee’s propped up on pillows dressed in only John’s shirt that stops mid thighs with John lying between her legs in an old pair of sweatpants that she can’t be certain who they belong to, his back pressed to her chest.

A cheesy old sci-fi movie plays on the tv as John runs his fingers along her arms that encircle him. She watches as his black tipped nails play shapes of magical runes and charms along her skin.

She recognizes some of them, symbols of affection and protection. She thinks he might be getting openly sentimental the older they get.

It’s peaceful, content, it almost feels permanent. Thirty seems to be making her sentimental too, thinking about the future and all that.

“Shit,” John says lifting up suddenly. “I forgot!”

“Forgot what?” she says watching as he lifts up onto his knees, turns and scoots forward keeping his space between her legs.

“I’ve got another gift for ya,” he says bringing his hands together. “Learned a new trick just for you.”

He smiles saying a few phrases in Latin under his breath his hands slowly coming apart. Bright red magic swirls around them and slowly bit by bit a cupcake appears. It’s lush red velvet with a light cream cheese frosting and top hat shaped candle on top.

“I’m 98 percent certain this one won’t taste like beets,” he says confidently.

“98 percent?” Zatanna questions skeptically remembering the horrendous cake he handmade from many years ago.

“I’ve been practicing just like I told ya I would. Now, if you don’t mind,” he says gesturing to the candle.

Zatanna smirks. “Erif,” she says a small flame lighting up the tip of her index finger. She tilts it lighting the candle before holding it up to her lips and blowing it out, holding John’s eyes the entire time knowing exactly what this little trick does to him.

Lighting his cigarettes this way, driving him wild has been a favorite past time of hers for a decade.

“Menace,” he grumbles before holding the cupcake closer to her. “Make a wish.”

She appeases him, closing her eyes and making it seem like she’s thinking up a good one, when all she’s thinking about is how good right now feels, before blowing out the little flame.

He pulls the candle from it offering it up to her and she takes a hesitant bite.

“It actually tastes like red velvet,” she says truly stunned, not caring that she’s talking with her mouth full.

“Told ya I’ve been practicing,” he says before taking a big bite of his own and flopping back down into his previous position pressed up against her.

“Only took you ten years,” she teases snatching the cupcake from him and taking another bite. He pinches her thigh lightly in retaliation making her giggle. They settle back in finishing the cupcake and making comments about the terrible movie onscreen.

“I’m gonna stay,” John says after a while. Zatanna hums, she’s starting to doze off the late hour and John warm against her leaving her just too comfortable to stay awake.

“For my birthday? I know. You always do.” She sleepily runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair twisting it when she reaches the ends.

“Well yeah, but not just for your birthday,” he clarifies. “I was meaning stay for a while. Here or in the House of Mystery until someone tries to steal it from me or the old Zatara mansion, lady’s choice really. I miss you Zee.”

Zatanna leans down pressing her face into John’s hair for a moment. “You mean that?”

He nods. “I can’t make any promises, fuck knows I’m shit at keeping them, but I want to stay. I want to do better by us. I want us to stay us. We’ve been at this for over a decade and it’s been made clear to me by just about everyone who’s ever met me that I need to get my shit together in at least one area of my life and I want it to be this one.”

Suddenly she remembers that look in his eyes before he’d cleared her mind entirely in the bedroom. The look that said he’d made up his mind about something. It was this. It was the decision to say all this out loud, to say what he wants and stay, really stay.

Zatanna nudges him to sit up, he gets the hint turning as much as he can to face her.

“I want you stay. I always want you to stay,” she says reaching out to rest her hand on a familiar tattoo on his chest, thumb brushing a scar she only just became acquainted with but knows she’ll end up memorizing the shape of soon enough. “And as for promises you’re better at keeping them than you think you are.”

She thinks of how he’s always a call away no matter what, how he’s never missed her birthday and how he even finally learned how to make an edible damn cake. He’s better than and at a lot more things than he thinks he is.

He leans in kissing her soft and slow.

“I love you, Zee,” he says when he pulls back. “I don’t say it enough.”

“I know,” she says brushing a hand through his hair. “I love you too.”

He smirks leaning in for another quick kiss, just a press of lips.

“Say it backwards?” he says cheekily.

She rolls her eyes but does it anyway.

“I evol ouy.”

She kisses him again a quick hard press of lips sealing it like magic then leans over for the remote flipping off the tv. She maneuvers till she stands, holding out a hand.

“Let’s go to bed.” He takes her hand following her to the bedroom and in the morning she wakes up with him wrapped around her. He makes a traditional English breakfast, vegetarian style just for her though it goes against every fiber of his English being and he stays.

Maybe she hadn’t made a real wish when she blew out that candle the night before, but it feels like something they’ve both been trying to get right for a decade came true anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> 10 imaginary points to anyone who catches the slightly altered Buffy/Angel quote I used in here.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this so some more JohnZee might come around soon.
> 
> And I guess if you like Shadowhunters, I write quite a bit of fic for Malec and Claia especially.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [alecmagnuslwb](https://alecmagnuslwb.tumblr.com/)


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